


Late

by youwerefantasticrose



Category: Doctor Who, Roski - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwerefantasticrose/pseuds/youwerefantasticrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s late, and she’s not there. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late

It’s late, and she’s not there. Again.

He sits on the floor, looking for answers, for solace, for something other than pain, at the bottom of the bottle. But it doesn’t work. It never does.

Sometimes it helps a little, though. Sometimes the alcohol makes him numb, helps him forget. Not tonight. Tonight it makes it worse. It makes him remember, sharpens his recollections, until they’re sharp enough to cut like a knife. 

His father. His brother. Rose.

He takes a swig from the glass he holds loosely in his hand, clenching his teeth as it burns through his chest. 

He’s never enough. Never will be. For anyone.

The door opens and closes quietly, but he stares at the wall instead.

“Loki?”

He doesn’t answer, but takes another drink, hand tightening dangerously on the glass.

She steps over, eyes narrowed with concern and wariness.

“Fuck,” she says, picking up the now empty bottle, looking at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Celebrating,” he says dryly, still staring at the wall, eyes tracing the little cracks in the wall. “To your health.”

He lifts the glass in her direction, then drinks the last of it, his eyes closing against the burning sensation. 

“Loki, please. You know that—”

The glass shatters against the wall behind her and she jumps. He’s standing now.

“What do I know, Rose? What? That you’re leaving? That you’ve just been using me? That this is all bullshit? You’re right, I do know that. I’m used to it, have been my whole life. I don’t need reminding.”

“What do you want me to do, Loki?” she says quietly, her eyes full. 

He lets out a yell of frustration, hands clenched by his sides.

“Lie!” he shouts. “I want you to lie. Tell me that you’ll stay. Tell me that you love me.”

She’s really crying now.

“I can’t,” she chokes out. “I wish—”

“What,” he barks, stepping closer. “What do you wish, Rose?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, stepping away. “I’m so sorry.”

She runs from the room, and he sinks down to the ground, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop the tears.

But it’s too late.

It always is.


End file.
